


Absolute Certainty

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Chaos, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Pining, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Around him, the air shifted and some fraction of the weight of it lifted from him. He let the smallest smile touch his lips for an instant before he sealed it away as though it had never been there. Easing back against the edge of the building, he let his words barely touch the air around him, "Evenin', B."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Certainty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TimmyJaybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/gifts).



> Because you create beautiful things and share them for all of us to enjoy and you deserve beautiful things in return. ♥  
> Song[s]: "Done For You" by Black Veil Brides

The silence of the night swirled around Jason, folding in on him in a way that felt like oppressively protective wings. He let his eyelids fall closed as he lifted his cigarette to his lips and took another steady drag from it, the cherry flaring for a moment before he let the smoke billow out of his nose. Pulling the stick away from his lips, he let his tongue slip out, just the quickest dart of it before he drew it back inside and breathed out a quiet sigh into the night air. 

Around him, the air shifted and some fraction of the weight of it lifted from him. He let the smallest smile touch his lips for an instant before he sealed it away as though it had never been there. Easing back against the edge of the building, he let his words barely touch the air around him, "Evenin', B." Opening his eyes, he waited until Bruce came around in front of him, cape fluttering around his ankles in the slight breeze. Jason let his eyes linger on the hem of it, watching it move as he took another drag, pulling as much of it as he dared in one go.

Huffing it back out, he let the stick fall to the ground, crushing it out a second later with his boot, the scratch of the gravel beneath the sole the louder than expected. "She feels like she's waiting on something, doesn't she?" He inclined his head toward Gotham ever so faintly, watching Bruce attentively despite how utterly languid he looked. It'd been almost a year since Bruce had outright come after him, attacked him for something he was doing - terrorizing as Bruce had called it when he'd abruptly tackled him damn near off a rooftop last time - and Jason had been keeping his business as clean as he could since then. Granted, he'd still be branded for overuse of force a lot of the time, but that was just how it was. How _he_ was.

But the fact was, he hadn't killed in months. Had only then because he had felt nothing else would solve what was happening. Someone had to do the dirty work and sometimes that meant him. Clearly Bruce had either agreed or had given up, since he hadn't turned up to try to drag Jason off to Arkham. 

Across the city, the Bat-signal flickered off, letting Jason know Bruce had either finished a job or he'd ignored it tonight. It was rare, but sometimes he did, whenever he had something more pressing to be doing. 

Something tightened inside of Jason, the flicker of a memory that he pressed back into the recesses of his mind before it could get ahold of him and drag him down. Turning, he pulled himself up onto the ledge of the rooftop, lifting one leg to place his foot flat against the concrete, draping one arm over his knee, the other dangling between his thighs. "Just going to stand there then?"

Still, Bruce didn't move, didn't say a word and Jason could feel the prickle of fear begin somewhere along the back of his neck. He was so complacent in Bruce's visit that he hadn't even checked to make sure it _was_ Bruce. He gave a nervous little lick of his lips, his hand slowly drawing up to rest on his thigh, much closer to his holster if he needed it, but casual enough that it looked almost sexual in nature. Not that he hoped to distract _Bruce_ with such things, but if it wasn't him, then maybe it would help.

Swallowing back any outward reaction of fear, he forced an easy-looking smile on his lips and huffed out a breath of a laugh. "Okay, nice one, B. Good joke, but it's over now. Seriously, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

The person - because Jason couldn't think of whoever it was as Bruce anymore - took a few more steps toward him and it took everything in Jason not to back up right over the edge of the building. No matter how long he'd known Batman, no matter that he'd _flown_ the Gotham nights with him, he couldn't bring himself to not be at least a little put in his place by the very presence of the suit, much less this strange display. 

Two more steps brought them nearly between his legs and he gave it half a second before he reacted. In one smooth movement, he had his knife out of his ankle sheath, leaving the gun holstered for now. He slid off the wall and swung himself around, easing against this person's back, pressing tight against them, blade slipping up between the only cracks in the armor, pressing but not sinking in just yet. "I know your every weakness and I'll _use_ them if you don't start talking." He pressed the blade enough he knew it was painful, just enough to draw a tiny bit of blood, but nothing more.

"Jason." Bruce's voice sounded like a warning and it was almost shocking to him that it was _Bruce's_ voice, not Batman's. Still, he didn't ease up. "Talk to me, B. Why are you here?"

The silence stretched out until Bruce spoke again, his voice gritted like it was difficult to get the words out, "Never piss off a magic user."

Jason would have laughed, would have thought it hilarious, except he was sure that somehow this _wasn't_ funny, not in the least. "Who?"

"Klarion." The name was spit out like it was disgusting and Jason kind of understood that. He'd had a few run-ins with the chaotic little shit himself and he knew for a fact that the Titans had as well. None of the reports had been overly _kind_ about the kid. Still... Jason kept the blade right where it was. "Spell?" He could sense Bruce's nod more than see it. "Catch any of it?"

"No... words," Bruce bit out and Jason bit back a wince, watching the way Bruce's fingertips curled against the edge of the roof, like he was clinging to it in an attempt not to act on whatever was driving him.

"Why did you come after me?" Some part of him was afraid he didn't want the answer, but the rest was sure he had to have it, and that was all it took to have him pressing Bruce toward speaking the words aloud.

Bruce bowed his head and took in a shuddering breath - and honestly that wasn't what Jason had been expecting from him. Hadn't thought he'd be denied the answer on this one. But whatever brought him here, Jason was sure Bruce was fighting it and that probably didn't mean great things for either of them. Jason wanted to ask if he should take Bruce down, but he knew it would be giving his hand, showing Bruce he was capable of taking him these days and that... wasn't exactly what he wanted to do.

He knew he should either take him out of play or start the chase, wear him down... but the truth was, he didn't really want to. He was nearly comfortable where he was, focused on Bruce like this, keeping him at bay with the press of a blade to his skin. Turning his attention completely on Bruce, he took in his current state. His breath came in quick little pants and he was running warmer than usual. He was sure if he could feel his pulse it would have been pounding like mad. The potential for adrenaline was there, though the cause of it could have been anything. "Do you want to kill me?" He finally put voice to the words he couldn't stop thinking.

There was silence for a moment and then the quiet whisper of Bruce's voice, "No. I never have."

Jason tilted his head, the information buzzing around in his mind, leading him down every other available path. "Are you here to fight me?" Another quiet no. "To put me in my place over something I've done?" Bruce shook his head and Jason could hear the way his breathing increased, the way he was clearly fighting himself over something. He tilted the knife a little bit more. "Is _this_ necessary?"

This time the word was broken, wrenched free like the final words from a dying man's lips. "Yes."

The pieces began to fall into place and Jason added up everything he was sure Klarion knew about them, everything he'd probably been able to dig up, and everything Bruce would have been this distraught over. When the puzzle was complete, drawing the full picture for him within his mind, Jason slowly eased the blade back, reaching to slide it into his spare holster along his belt, still using the pressure of his body to keep Bruce in place. When his hand was free, he slid it over Bruce's armor, pressing back to nearly the same place again. Closing his eyes, he slowly splayed his fingers, knowing one of them was dangerously close to territory he should never have wanted to explore. 

It was as if a light had been illuminated upon the situation and Jason could feel everything in him responding to the knowledge. But he also knew he'd never use a situation like this in all the ways he _could_ have. His hand remained as it was and he moved to press his chin to Bruce's shoulder blade, opening his eyes and gazing out over Gotham. "Leave it to a master of chaos to think of something like this... to have no idea how it would end up and for him to not even care." He could feel the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips and he almost hated himself for it. Because he knew while he'd never push the situation in certain ways, he'd use it to hear everything he'd ever wanted to and he'd be oddly okay with that. 

They were quiet for long enough to hear the eleven thirty train rumbling past a few blocks away; three minutes late if Jason was right about how much time had passed since Bruce arrived. When the silence enveloped them again, Jason let himself push just the slightest. "Did you ever love me like you loved the others? Or was I just some charity case to you?"

There was the smallest of choked sound and then Bruce's shaky response, something weaker than Jason could have ever predicted laced in his voice. "Your loss... nearly killed me."

As little of an answer as it was, it was everything Jason needed to know. He'd seen how Bruce had reacted to Dick's death... to Damian's even. He'd been there to watch Damian's funeral and he'd seen an empty shell where Bruce Wayne should have been. He'd seen the way it was a struggle for Bruce to hold back when he'd taken back to the streets at night. He'd watched insanity grip him and pull him down. If he'd been worse than that for Jason, he could only fathom how much Bruce had to have cared for him.

"Why did you leave me then?" It wasn't as simple as it seemed and he damn well knew that.

"You deserved peace... and I couldn't be so selfish as to keep you from it." The words came easier and Jason slowly began to realize the puzzle was larger than he'd anticipated. He carefully eased up on Bruce, taking a half step back and folding his arms over his chest, studying the way Bruce only seemed to curl in on himself. 

"Stop fighting it. Whatever Klarion wanted from this, I don't think he expected this to be it." 

Bruce slowly straightened up and when his hands came to rest at his sides, Jason could see the slight tremor in them as lightning streaked through the sky. As was the Gotham way, the wind began to pick up and Jason knew the storm was moving in quick, bringing with it the rain he'd seen hedging over the water for the past few hours. When Bruce still didn't move, Jason flicked his gaze down to the gravel at his feet, studying it as he debated his next line of questioning. 

"What do you feel like your goal is here? Like... what did Klarion want from this thing? If you can tell..." Jason trailed off, gaze flicking up as Bruce turned toward him, a whirl of cape and then utter stillness, as if he was still fighting himself back from whatever was trying to happen with his body. It was proof, if nothing else, that Bruce Wayne was a hell of a fighter. Jason had been on the receiving end of Klarion's magic before and fighting it hadn't really been an option, though it seemed - for Bruce - it was.

"You." It shouldn't have been much to go on, should have only confused Jason even more than he already was. But the tone of voice cast the single word into a light that was unmistakable and Jason instantly felt the flush of a long-familiar heat rush through him. Their eyes met and Jason let the cool breeze get to him - at least that was what he told himself - and shivered. He realized now that Bruce had turned the lenses of his mask transparent and for that he was grateful. It gave him the smallest insight into Bruce's state of mind, seeing that his eyes weren't the flat expressionless pit he'd been half afraid they would be. Rather, he found a pain there that was, perhaps, flayed even rawer than his own. 

"Tell me what's holding you back," Jason breathed out, taking half a step toward Bruce, noting that he didn't back up in the slightest. 

"Never want... to hurt you." The words were forced out, as if he'd had to rip them from his diaphragm and shove them past his lungs and esophagus right out into the world. Jason could feel the confusion that clouded his face, the way his brow furrowed and his lips parted in silent protest. 

Shaking his head, Jason let his arms fall from around his middle. He took in a deep breath, slowly letting it back out to steady himself. "If I guess it... if I put my money all in and it's on the right square... will you tell me?" Bruce's jaw worked before he gave a single nod. Jason could hear the leather of his gloves as his fists clenched and he stood a little straighter, determined to make this the antithesis of timidity. "If I'm wrong... if I'm reading this like a complete moron... just don't hold it against me." He didn't even wait on a response to that; knew Bruce would let it pass given the situation they were in. Meeting Bruce's gaze again, he held it as he breathed words he'd never once thought he'd be speaking to him. "Is it," he almost couldn't get the words out, couldn't admit to them himself either. But he choked them up much the way Bruce had been doing all along, force them past his lips. "I've wanted things, B... things I shouldn't have ever wanted from you. But I did. And I _know_ at least once, that you wanted the same things from me. Is... is it that?" With the confession came an odd sort of calm, none of the trepidation he thought he'd feel, none of the fear of rejection or anguish of having revealed his biggest and more harbored secret to the very man it was about. It was - simply put - _freedom_. 

There was a moment in which Jason could see every ounce of pain Bruce kept tucked away within the depths of his eyes and then it was only sadness. Bruce's fingers relaxed and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he let out a hoarse, "Yes."

Jason took the last step that put him within Bruce's space, but not against him, reaching one hand to lightly ghost over his bicep and then lightly hold at his elbow. "Then say it... admit it with more than one word." He could hear the desperate teenager inside of his voice, the ghost of at least ten years past, and he found that for once he didn't mind as much as he usually did. This time he knew it was a plea for healing, a desperate need to find something to fix everything else they'd ruined in one fell swoop.

Bruce took two steps back and dropped down onto the ledge, his shoulders slumped in a manner that told Jason he'd been running hard against this for a long time now: hours if not days. When Bruce looked back up, he could see exhaustion written in every line of his body, could sense that whatever hold Klarion had had over him had evaporated with the single worded confession. He saw a lost man in those eyes, saw someone utterly confused as to what their direction was now that they'd been handed back the reigns they'd been fighting for. "I don't know what to say." And those words told so much; that this man Jason had spent his life looking up to had no words for whatever he was feeling now that the confession had been made. 

Easing himself down next to Bruce, Jason leaned forward to brace his elbows on his thighs, his fingers lightly playing over one another in the air between. "Look... B, it's not like I didn't feel it, too. It's..." he sighed, shaking his head, "It's not like it ever left me. I've thought of those sorts of things for years and I doubt I'll ever stop. Even when I hated you for what happened - even then - I wanted nothing more than to hear you tell me you wanted it too. I'd have dropped _everything_ for you. I still would. And maybe that's why I fight so hard against the things you want me to do. I don't know how else to deal with what I've always felt and what I knew you'd always turn me away for." Jason lifted one shoulder and huffed out a little breath. "All I've ever wanted is for you to feel the same way I do."

Bruce's hand came to rest on his thigh, squeezing gently and then retreating, leaving Jason staring at the spot where it had been. "Klarion's spell only forced me to act. I've been fighting it for almost a day now, trying not to come and find you. But Gotham needed me out here tonight."

Jason let out a humorless little laugh, shaking his head. "B, just... say it. Stop letting it eat you up inside. It doesn't matter if it was wrong or if you still think it is. Confessing it is... therapeutic." He glanced to the side and tried to offer him a little smile. "I should know, I just did it."

Their eyes locked for an instant and then Bruce was there, his thigh pressed tight along Jason's own, his hand holding onto Jason's bicep as he leaned over him, hesitating a hair's breadth from kissing him, only to barely whisper out, "He's lost his hold... I need you to know that."

"I know... I knew the moment you sat down." Jason reached out, his fingers blindly finding Bruce's shoulder, seeking the areas with a bit less padding to sink his fingertips into, clinging to him like he knew if he let go Bruce would float away, a figment of his imagination. And just like that Bruce's lips were hard against his own, pressing and insistent, and Bruce's scent was invading his senses, sending his mind into a dizzying spiral and his pulse skittering. There was an eagerness in his reply, in the way he slicked his tongue out and along Bruce's lower lip that probably told a hell of a lot about him, but he didn't let it bother him.

When Bruce finally eased himself back from the kiss, it was only far enough to rest his forehead against Jason's own, their breath mingling on the air between them and the feeling of Bruce's glove against his cheek. Closing his eyes, Jason leaned into it, letting the smallest smile slide over his lips as he allowed so many years of repression to fade away from him. His breath came freer and his heart raced in a way he hadn't felt in years. 

"When I started to feel like this, it terrified me. I ran from it and I... I shouldn't have. You'd come back to me and I thought for sure it was just that clouding my judgement, pushing me to feel things I shouldn't have. But it wasn't that. It never was."

This time it was Jason who moved, looping one arm around Bruce's shoulders as he tilted his head, pressed their lips together once again. And this time it wasn't hesitant in the least. He poured out all the years of passion he'd felt for Bruce, all the moments he'd thought of him like he shouldn't have, all of the times he'd hated himself for feeling what he did... and more than that, all of the love he had for this man who'd taken him under his wing when he needed it the most; this man that believed in him when no one else had. 

Parting from him, Jason took in an unsteady breath, dropping his head down onto Bruce's shoulder, turning to breathe in everything that was _Batman_ , and he knew then he had to understand who Bruce Wayne was as well. He wanted to know the man behind the mask as much as the one in front of it and he wanted to learn everything that had changed over all of these years and everything that was still the same. Nothing in the entire world was going to pry him away this time. And, of that, he was absolutely certain.


End file.
